


The Pizza Boy||Clemmings

by sonya_clifford



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Art Student Michael, Bisexual Male Character, Cute Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings, Gay Luke, Gay Male Character, Gay Michael Clifford, Homelessness, How Do I Tag, M/M, Michael Clifford Loves Luke Hemmings, The Pizza Man, homeless!luke, luke is homeless, michael is a pizza boy, music student michael
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-24 23:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6170740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonya_clifford/pseuds/sonya_clifford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the homeless boy Michael sees every day talks to him, and the pizza boy Luke sees every day is too kind.<br/>or<br/>In which the homeless boy Michael sees everyday saves Michael's ass, and the pizza boy Luke sees every day repays him with pizza.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chicken Wings

It was 7p.m. on a Saturday when Michael's shift was about to end. He hung his apron and cap up on the pegs next to the others, taking the pizza he was entitled to at the end of each work day. Before he left, he heard his co-worker yell,

"Michael, for god sake! You left a pizza in the oven! Who was this even for? This is not dough-kay!" Michael rolled his eyes at the nagging, and the absolutely terrible pun.

"Obviously no one in particular if I didn't take it out the oven!" Michael yelled. He was sure he was going to get fired one day. 

"Bye, boss!" Michael yelled, avoiding confrontation, slinging his bag onto his shoulder and leaving through the back door. He usually walked back to his flat, convincing himself that walking for 20 minutes balanced out the amount of pizza he ate. Michael's job at the pizza place was a weekend job, but often after class he'd work an extra shift for more cash. Michael was passing the boy who nearly always sits at the corner of the supermarket when he heard him shout.

"Hey!" He yelled, shivering slightly. Michael was about to take his wallet out his pocket when he heard the boy say, "I don't want your money, this fell out your bag," his hand outstretched holding an envelope which happened to be Michael's pay cheque. 

"Holy shit, thank you." Michael said, sighing in relief because god knows where else that could have ended up. He looked down at the box of pizza still held in his hand, before holding it out to the boy he had seen a few times before. "Take this, as a thank you." he offered to the boy who was in jeans with tiny rips at the seams and knees, and you could tell thy weren't there for fashion purposes. He had a dirty grey hoodie on, his hands clenched in the pockets.

"Y-You don't have to do that," the boy breathed. No one had offered him food in a long time. However he hated pity, and the looks he got as he was slumped against the wall. He used to get by on the streets with his guitar, until it got stolen, and things had been harder than ever.

"Honestly, take it. Gets boring eating it all the time anyway." Michael said, hoping he didn't just wave around the fact that he can have pizza every day if he wants. 

"Thank you so much!" The homeless boy gushed gratefully. "I really appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it. I've got to go, I'll see you around I guess?" Michael said, turning away. "Wait! What's your name?" He asked.

"It's Luke."

"See you around, Luke. The names Michael, by the way!" The pizza boy stated, running off. 

"Bye, Michael..." Luke said quietly, to himself mainly. That was the most contact with someone Luke had had in months. God knows where his life, friends and family fucked off to, but he obviously wasn't invited. The idea of Michael talking to him again was a long shot, but god did he wish he would.

 

***

"Where's the pizza? The one day I wanna eat badly you don't have pizza? Disappointing, Clifford." Calum, Michael's best friend and flatmate, joked.

"Gave it to a homeless guy, saved me from losing my pay. Anyway, what's gotten into you, I haven't seen you pig out in forever."

"I got a B on my English essay yesterday and quite frankly, I'm ready to kill my lecturer. Not my fucking fault I didn't get _Of Mice and Men_ explained to me. And how was I meant to-" Calum began ranting before Michael cut him off.

"Can't you just suck the professor's dick or something?" Michael asked, clearly not seeing how annoyed Calum really was. Michael hadn't even seen Calum since the day before. Calum rolled his eyes.

"First of all, that's nasty. Second of all, I'm not about that life, and third of all just because you kiss ass for good grades doesn't mean I will."

"Does someone need a hug and some chicken wings?" Michael asked in an attempt to make his best friend feel better. Calum looked up. "With barbecue sauce?"

"With barbecue sauce. I'll order, you find ever shitty movie we have and we'll act like we just got dumped if it makes you feel better." The blue haired boy said, because he's a good friend, and also that friend that will come to your house when your sad with all of the food. 

As Michael was on the phone to the food place, he thought about his encounter with Luke earlier, and how he wants to buy him chicken wings. Maybe it was because Michael is a nice person, or maybe it was because Michael wanted to talk to him again. 


	2. Unfinished Sentences

Luke felt pathetic. He felt pathetic as he thought about the encounter with the stranger the day before, half of the pizza Michael had given him left in the box next to him. As tempting as it was to eat the rest, he had learned to ration his food. As people walked by and gave Luke pitying stares, he sunk into the corner he was leaning on, avoiding the eye contact. Luke never sat there, with a cup in front of him, begging for people's money. Even before he was homeless, Luke was never one to accept gifts easily anyway, he was a giver and not a receiver. 

Luke laid his head back, closing his eyes, thinking of happier times. His blonde hair which was once quiffed to perfection was now unwashed and greasy, a mess atop of his head. He used to have a weekend job and a life and money and friends and family and everything he could ask for, but god knows where that went when he was kicked out at the age of seventeen. Seventeen, too young to live by himself, too old to be attached to his parents, yet he still was.

_Luke had his hands in the hair of  another boy, the pair kissing as soon as they stumbled out of the cab. Luke's hands fumbled with the handle of the door to his house, and led the boy up to his bedroom, the brunette clinging onto him. Both of them were intoxicated, and Luke was way past the stage to be concious of his parents in the room next to his. He was too drunk to think about what would happen the next morning and too drunk to remember what his father had said about gays: They were filthy faggots. And maybe that was the reason Luke had his hands unbuckling the belt of a stranger, to spite his parents._

_The next morning when Luke's one night stand was leaving his house in the early AM, his father saw the other boy leaving with messy hair and marks all over his neck. And when Luke's father confronted him about it, he said the words that caused all of this: "Get out."_

Luke doesn't like to think about the other events that happened in that short period, but he wouldn't have gotten a chance to anyway, as a police officer cleared their throat.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, find somewhere else to ask for pity." The irritated looking officer snarled. Luke had gotten used to being told to leave and had stopped resisting by now. With a sinking feeling in his chest he got up, heading to where he usually does when he's told to leave, the park. 

When Luke arrived at the park and sat on the bench, repelling other people, he pulled something out of his hoodie pocket, that he had found in a skip when digging for food, which was a small notebook with a pen attached to the side. When Luke had his guitar, he would write songs. He had a talent for song writing, and before he was kicked out, that's what he wanted to study. Music. Before Luke found the notebook, lyrics were already written in the book, and Luke had drawn chord names over the lyrics, imagining what the writer intended the songs to sound like. Luke began humming to himself, beginning to scribble down lyrics he thought of before they escaped his mind. This is how he passed time.

 ***

Michael was working his Sunday shift, chatting with his co-workers about weekend plans, trying to pass time before he could leave. He liked his job, but as silly as it was, he wanted to get to know Luke. Sure, they're basically strangers and it's stupid, but Michael could always just say "I brought you pizza" as an excuse to initiate conversation. Luke probably wouldn't turn down someone to talk to anyway, he hasn't talked to anyone about anything that wasn't about his homelessness, or anything real in longer than he can remember.

"What's got you buggin'?" Michael's co-worker asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Nothing really, just tired and want to go home." Michael white lied. Telling the truth would make Michael seem pretty strange, considering talking to strangers isn't something most people do. But whatever, Michael doesn't really give a shit. Ashton nodded, probably noticing Michael wasn't telling the truth, but not questioning further for whatever reason.

"Hey, I've got a date tonight!" Ashton beamed. Michael raised his eyebrow and smirked.

"Oh really? What's his name?"  Ashton rolled his eyes.

"I appreciate the not assuming I'm straight thing, but you know I'm straight, we confirmed that when you hit on me when you first came here and I shot you down.  And the joke is dying. Her name is Natalie and she's a keeper." Ashton ranted.

"Alright, alright, mister!" Michael chuckled. "Treat her well and all that." Ashton put a hand to his chest and feigned hurt.

"You think that I, Ashton Irwin, would ever mistreat a lady?" Allison, who was rolling dough turned around.

"You keep slamming doors in my face, so yes, I do."

"You aren't a lady, you're a little girl" Ashton teased, playfully. Allison shook her head.

"You are three days older than me, not 3 years, shut the fuck up, Irwin." She snapped, rolling her eyes.

"Anyway," Ashton continued, "I have a good feeling about it. Oh yeah, you can have my pizza if you want." This sparked Michael's interest as this just means he can feed Luke, and Calum, if he's still bummed about his essay. Michael couldn't imagine being upset over a B, considering he's a straight C student.

Before Michael could realise, it was time to leave. He smiled as he left the building, wishing Ashton good luck, holding 2 pizza boxes. Michael could admit that this Luke thing was kind of strange and like, everything you're taught not to do and something anyone else wouldn't do, but Michael was determined to talk to Luke, just because why not. Well, Michael realises there's probably a few reasons not to, but he ignores them. 

As Michael stepped out onto the street and walked his usual path home, he saw that Luke wasn't where he usually was, and if Michael didn't have two pizzas, he would have home, but he did have two pizzas and wasting food was a shitty thing to do. He looked around, deciding that if a homeless person had to be somewhere, it would be a park, wouldn't it? Michael decided to check the park, taking a long route, just in case he saw Luke. With every thought of the blonde boy he felt slightly stranger and more stalker-ish, but Michael decided to try and find him anyway. He knew that if he didn't, he'd only be filled with curiosity anyway.

When Michael made it to the park, he saw the boy he was looking for, knees against his body on a bench, clutching a small black book to his chest. Michael contemplated letting the boy sleep, but as a chilly breeze made leaves fall off tees, Luke's eyes opened, the boy shivering. Michael approached him, taking a deep breath. He had just realised how creepy this could actually seem, what was he going to say to him, "Hey, I brought you pizza but you weren't there where you usually are so I decided to look for you and I watched you sleep" or something? Michael shook his head.

"Fancy running into you again, just decided to take the scenic route home..." Michael trailed off. Luke looked startled, but he couldn't deny he was happy to see Michael.

"H-hey, didn't think I'd see you again." Luke stuttered, partly because holy fuck, was he freezing, and he wasn't used to anyone deciding to talk to him. Michael smiled.

"Yeah." Michael, panicked, not knowing what to say. He was about to offer Luke his jacket, but he didn't want to make it seem like he felt sorry for Luke, or make things stranger than they already were. "Uh, have this." Michael said bluntly, holding the pizza out. Michael made a mental note to slap himself as there were so many other ways to say what he just said. Luke shook his head.

"If that's a pity offer, I don't want it." Luke didn't like accepting donations out of pity. Michael shook his head.

"Nah, man. I got two today and uh- I don't really need two so I'd rather give it to someone than waste it you know? Like..." Michael trailed off, not knowing where to go.

"Like what? Unfinished sentences have endings waiting to be found." Michael was taken aback, usually he stopped talking because he realised no one was listening, and here he had someone inviting him to keep talking.

"Uh I don't know, I have a habit of trailing off, I was rambling anyway. Have the pizza." Michael said, awkwardly. Luke could tell Michael was uncomfortable. After people watching for a long time, he had become good at analysing people.

"You're a nice person, you shouldn't be shy about it. And you should finish your sentences. Make people listen. You can be more outspoken than you think you are" Luke advised. That's the thing about people who are looked down upon in society; they often have more depth and intelligence than the people they're looked down upon by. This is why Michael was intrigued by Luke, how different is this to getting someone's number or trying to speak to someone new?

Michael contemplated sitting with Luke, but remembered Calum was probably home by now anyway, and he decided to wait before he talked to Luke some more.

"Thanks, I'll think about that... I hope I see you around alright? Stay safe." Michael said, turning away.

"It's not like I'm hard to find, where do you think I'm gonna go?" Luke chuckled. "See you then, thanks a lot for the food."

***

"Calum, I'm home!" Michael yelled, chuckling because he sounded like Calum's spouse. "I have pizza!" He added. Calum came through the living room.

"You're home later than usual." Calum said, raising an eyebrow.

"Just got caught up talking to someone, that's all. You log in Netflix, I'll be down in a minute." Michael explained shortly, jogging upstairs.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! thanks if you made it this far, itll get cuter/more interesting soon but i need more background and description n stuff and i dont really know what im doing and i didnt mean to write something this long but hopefully itll get better thanks for reading !! peace x


	3. Seventeen

It had become a routine for Michael to bring Luke pizza once every few days, then every other day, then nearly every day did Michael visit Luke at the park or on back alley of the street, enjoying the boy's company more than he thought he would.

Michael was finishing up at the shop, throwing a rag into a basin of soapy water, cringing a little because the dirty water splashed on him.

"Your future wife is going to be so lucky to have you as a husband, it's so great to see you're comfortable with cleaning." Ashton said, chuckling. Michael nudged him playfully, before turning to look at him.

"Quick reminder, I'm not straight, and I'm happy with anything _but_ the dishes, those are just some preferences of mine. And besides, how could I possible use the hand I use to-"

"I know where that sentence is going, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't finish it in the kitchen, Michael. Anyway, I feel bad for your future spouse. What's it like being single?" Ashton asked. Michael raised his eyebrows and smiled.

"So things went well then?" Michael asked.

"Hell yeah, took her to dinner then took her to the bedroom and-"

"Oh okay, so when _you_ talk about sex it's fine, but when  _I_ talk about it, it's inappropriate? I see what's going on here." Michael sneered, feigning offence.

"You're just bitter because you're single."

"Up your ass, Irwin."

***

Michael made his usual journey up to the park through the back alley, the rain drizzling down. 

"Oh, god dammit." Michael mumbled, pulling his hood over his head. Then he realised that he doesn't have to deal with this every day, and that he should shut the fuck up.

As Michael approached where Luke usually sat in the alley, he noticed he blonde boy's head was tilted back, eyes closed, knees against his chest. He looked so peaceful amidst the cruel surroundings he faced. He admired Luke like you would admire any other attractive stranger, focusing on his scruffy beard and puffy eyes. Michael saw no difference between Luke and the barista at the coffee shop, or something in a magazine, or another stranger. As Michael drew nearer to Luke, the homeless boy opened his eyes, a small smile creeping onto his face.

"Hey," Luke croaked. Michael frowned.

"You're ill." 

"Yeah, it's kinda cold and stuff." Luke said, clearing his throat. 

Michael decided to sit down next to Luke today, despite the dampness of the ground and the chill of the wind. If Luke could do this every day, Michael could keep him company. Luke looked at Michael, almost perplexed.

"W-What are you doing? I don't wanna get you sick, and you don't have to stay here."

"It's whatever, I'm staying unless you want me to leave." said Michael. He opened the pizza box and held it out to Luke. The blonde boy pulled a piece out the box.

"You're too nice to me, it almost makes me nervous. I'm not used to people even speaking to me, let alone feeding me." Luke explained.

"I like the idea that I'm helping someone I guess, I'm not exactly doing much with my life." sighed the blue haired boy.

"Tell me about yourself."

"What?" Michael asked.

"I said tell me about yourself, of course you're doing something with your life."

"Well, I'm nearly scraping a B in art and music at college and that isn't gonna let me get anywhere big in life."

"Art and music, eh?"

"Yeah, I play the guitar. I guess I can sing, kind of, If I'm harmonising and no ones paying attention to me. My dad's an artist, I guess I just got lucky with the drawing skills."

Luke nodded. "You shouldn't worry so much about the future, it takes a while for people to realise there's a lot more to life than just work, and that life can just be about getting by and having a good time. You don't have to get anywhere "big" in life to have lived a good one."

Michael admired the thoughtful way in which Luke spoke, appreciating the words.

"You seem wise. You seem like, not assuming anything about you or your life or anything, you've learned from mistakes and analysed them and found the good side of them." Luke nodded. "Maybe knowledge doesn't come quickly to me, but the people that are walked on are the most wise. They're in that position because they made mistakes, but as you said, they learn from them." Michael looked at Luke, smiling slightly. 

"You're pretty cool, Luke. Why don't you tell me about yourself a little? If you want to, that is." Asked Michael, curiously.

"Do you want the "how I became homeless" sob story? Or the what I did with my life pre-homeless" story?" The weary boy chuckled.

"How about you tell me the "how you became homeless sob story" and save the what you did pre-homeless story for another time?" Michael suggested.

"Well, I was seventeen..." Luke began.

Luke told the other boy about how he got caught by his father, and how he was a dick, and what happened that night, sharing all the details with Michael, such as how it was "kind of illegal," and how "a seventeen year old should probably be studying or something, not getting drunk and fucking a stranger." Not to forget how "he smelled of raspberries", and how he's pretty sure the guy just spilled vodka on himself, or maybe Luke spilled vodka on him.

"That sucks, I chose to be the one sneaking out through the window and stuck with that idea, there was this one dude who made me climb down the fire escape of his parent's apartment without security noticing, but looking back at that I don't even think his parents were in. Do apartments even have security guards? God knows what nineteen year old me thought was reasonable." Michael chuckled.

"Wish I had been that smart... Whatever, I don't miss the bastard. My mum and my brothers though, I wish I had at least left a note." Luke sighed. If Luke could tell his seventeen year old self not to fuck someone out of spite, and not to drink under age, and not to have sex with someone who's probably too old for him, he would. Because god, did the boy, only at seventeen, fucked his life up.

"That sucks, man. Well-" Michael was about to continue when his phone buzzed, Calum's name popping up on the screen.

_Cal: You alright Mike? Just checking up_

Michael smiled at his phone, silently laughing as if anyone saw the conversations Michael and Calum had they would believe they were a couple, but they had established Calum was straight when they first yet. Michael seemed to always get shot down by the good ones. He texted Calum saying he'd be home soon, before turning to Luke.

"Gotta go?" He asked.

"Yeah," Michael sighed. "I'll see you soon, L." said Michael, standing up and scrunching his nose up at the damp feeling. "Stay safe!" He yelled as he left, leaving Luke with a small smile on his face.

***

"What's been keeping you lately? I get so lonely in this apartment by myself. Why are you wet? Did you walk home? You're gonna catch a cold." Calum asked as Michael walked through the front door.

"Are you my mother?" Michael chucked. "I've just been talking to someone, and my immune system can handle it, Cal."

"You should be grateful you have me as a best friend, you aren't exactly the greatest at taking care of yourself. And does Mikey have a boyfriennnnnnd? Or a girlfriend, or general partner?"

Michael laughed at his best friend, who sounded like a teenage girl. "Nah, we don't know each other that well. There's something cool about him, though."

"Well there must be, if you're spending all this time with him." Calum chuckled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u guys dont know how hard it is not to write fluff and make everyone gay and make michael take luke home and make it cute i have so many things i wanna do nd i have 2 other concepts i wanna write so i might have a new fanfic chapter up tonight/tomorrow k thx ly x


	4. Muse

Dazed. That's how Luke felt from the moment he woke up. That's how Luke felt because god he hadn't had human interaction in so long and having a sweetheart give him company was overwhelming. Whenever Michael left, Luke was longing for him to come back. The most interaction with anything Luke had had before that was stray dogs and cats. He missed his old dog, and whenever he thought about how Molly thought Luke would come back, he got teary eyed and thought of his mum and brothers, and all the regrets of not giving them memorable last words. Luke thought that as if he had died or something, but he's probably dead to them by now.

"I'm fine." Luke mumbled to himself. "I'm fine, I'm fine, _I'm fine!"_ Luke cried, yelling to no one in particular, or everyone who was listening.

This happened frequently, Luke breaking down with the hopeless feelings of _oh god, I'm going to live my whole life like this,_ the  _nothing is ever going to change_ feelings. 

Luke sighed and pulled out the small black notebook and pen, flicking through the pages. He read the first few words which were written by someone else, the words which he had read over and over again.

"If you find this, you will be fine."

Luke had burned the words into his brain, but every time he thought he believed them, his hope was torn down by himself. That's just the way Luke was, his optimistic attitude left him the same time he left his family.

The boy flipped to the last used page of the book, his scrawny handwriting all over it with random thoughts and lines that could be lyrics. Luke clicked the pen and started mindlessly doodling, little stars and swirls in the corner of the page. All he used to do was write songs, but after writing about being gay and homeless, he had no other experiences to turn into lyrics. From the corner of Luke's eye, he could see someone approaching. 

 _Please be Michael_ , Luke thought, as he could hear footsteps on the ground. 

"What's this, loser?" A man who looked like he was well into his 50s said, pulling the notebook out of Luke's hands. 

"Give that back!" Luke yelled, his hand making a grabbing motion, but his energy to bite back was long gone. The man sniggered.

"Aww, you stole this from someone else? Writing your pathetic little gay poems and drawings in it?" The messy looking man who had a scruffy beard and a evil glint smirked. "Well guess what?" He slowly started tearing a page out, crumpling it in his hand.

"N-No!" Luke trembled. "Don't do that..." He mumbled, knowing he was defeated. He blinked back a tear as a few pages dropped to the damp ground, the whole notebook dropping soon after, half in a puddle.

"Gross little fag, writing about boys. You should be disgusted." He sneered, shoving Luke with his foot slightly, walking away.

Luke whimpered, sinking down against the wall. He regretted how many times he wrote "boy" in his songs and how many times he had thought of Michael. Then the words of the man hit him. They were just like the ones his father had used against him, the words like weapons.

"God dammit!" Luke said through his teeth, hitting his head against the wall in anger and sadness, and pain and misery. He let himself slump into the corner. He'd learned to sleep through most of his problems.

***

Michael took his usual left down the alley. Except Michael didn't have work today, and he just decided to visit Luke. He just liked his company, his conversation, his voice, his... Him. Michael liked every aspect of Luke he knew and he was so eager to learn more about him. He mad more substance than many people Michael knew and god, was he something Michael wanted more of. He was mesmerising, from the way he stared at Michael as he listened, to the way his eyes would dart around, analysing his surroundings. Sure, Michael had only known Luke for a little over a week, but the blonde boy just had that effect on Michael. However, when Michael saw Luke that day, asleep at about 4pm, he knew something was up. He'd often see Luke writing in a notebook before Michael visited, but he had never asked him about it.

Michael walked closer to the boy, before noticing the half soaked notebook next to Luke. His eyebrows furrowed together as he knelt down and picked the book up, squeezing some water out with his fingers. He flicked through the notebook, checking to see if it was okay. Michael felt that sinking feeling as he realised the smudged words and bleeding ink were unreadable. However some pages were drier than the rest. Michael could see the title at the start of the page:  _him._ He could make out the words _he's there, I can't believe he cares._ Michael was about to flick to the next page when Luke stirred in his sleep, opening his eyes.

"Michael?" Luke said. "What are you doing?" Michael widened his eyes.

"Shit, sorry. It was all wet and I was checking to see if it was alright but I got carried away, I shou-" Michael began to explain.

"No, that;s fine. I meant, you aren't in your uniform, what are you doing here?"

"I just came to see you. Unless you want me tot go, I can go..."

"Don't be daft, I'm glad you're here..." Luke sighed, and Michael questioned Luke on what had happened, and Luke brushed it off saying he just dropped it. Of course, Michael could see right through his lies. He let it drop anyway.

"So you write songs?" Michael asked, breaking the comfortable silence the pair had been in, resting his head on Luke's shoulder.

"I guess yeah. I used to be really into it, I don't have much to write about any more. The homeless thing got old pretty quickly."

"I get it. I can write, it'd just be great if someone could sing for me." said Michael. He didn't realise how much of an angelic voice he really had.

"I can write, it'd just be great if I had a muse."

"I'll be your muse." Michael joked.

"Then I'll write about you, Michael." said Luke, completely serious.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey sorry its been a while i have exams n need to study n sll ive been trying to write a bit every day this week but its just been haaaard until now so here u go i hope u like it (theres probably like 15 mistakes ill fix them later i promise) x


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